


The Game

by orphan_account



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Garleans (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:21:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26054848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Constantly at odds, Parizad and Emperor Solus take their battle of wits to somewhere more private.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Original Character(s), Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	The Game

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Plum for beta reading it and being awesome!!
> 
> Also this was produced out of some drawings I made and TenkleyLess giving me WAAY too many ideas.
> 
> join the bookclub :) https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic

Solus is so fond of parties. Whether they are extravagant events or just a small group of friends, there always seems to be something happening at the palace. Of course, Parizad doesn’t mind. Despite being in company that leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, she enjoys the dancing, the music, and the conversations. She _also_ enjoys the abundance of drink that was available. Ah, there was always so much of it. It was hard to avoid and even harder to say no when offered.

One glass turns into two, which quickly becomes five. Sooner than later, you’d have consumed at least an entire bottle while reaching for more. Somehow the Garleans had managed to make a wine that did not leave a bitter taste in your mouth, but rather a sweet, honey-like substance. It was widely popular, and led to a lot of exciting stories to be retold.

Parizad prides herself on her tolerance; she grew up within royalty. Such delicacies were always a ring of the bell away. Regardless of being able to handle herself, she finds the world spinning a bit too quickly for her liking. She does not care for the others at the party, and she knew she would not be harmed either – not as the Emperor’s consort. But the anxiety does bubble within her stomach. These were the same individuals who had helped overthrow her family and take their land where ceruleum was abundant.

The sweet taste of wine becomes bitter, the beautiful amber hue slowly turns crimson with each sip she takes. The guests smile and laugh, baring their scarlet stained teeth. Her heart begins to race, instinctively drinking more than she can stomach. 

Parizad knew the only way of escaping this horrible cycle was to leave the party entirely. As the music begins to shift, people turning their attention to the dancers, she slips away from their sight and returns to her rooms. It took longer than anticipated for her to get there, as she was trying to balance herself beneath a world that shifts every time she lifts her foot. 

She pushes open the chamber door, light from the hallway flooding into the nearly dark room. She had left candles to burn in her absence, for when she wished to return. She doesn’t make it to the bed before she collapses. Instead, she falls into a mound of pillows that were thrown in the center of the room. She wiggles out of her dress, throwing it to the side without a care of where it landed.

Pari had never been more thankful for private quarters than now, the soft pillow against her, the fabric reminds her of home - a break from the bloody smiles in the ballroom. Solus had decorated it for her, after having heard where she came from. Perhaps it was out of manipulation, a way for her to trust him. Or, it was from the kindness of his heart. A gesture to show there would always be a home for her within _his_ empire. She did not care to pursue the philosophical reasoning behind such a display of affection, as her mind was beginning to doze off.

The sound of the door opening jostles her awake. Her head lifts from the pile of pillows to see who was interrupting her mid-party nap. It was too dark, and the world spun too much for her to immediately recognize who was at the door. Light caught on the hard edges of gold, glimmering in the darkness.

“Retiring so early?”

Her head rests back on the pillow, giving a drunken smile as a response. She could hear the emperor chuckle to himself and the sound of the door creaking shut.

“I am _merely_ taking a small break from the festivities," she rolls over onto her side, head resting on a pillow, watching him approach.

“It appears to me that you are taking more than a small break, my dear,” he takes a spot beside her on the mound of pillows, and naturally, she wraps her arm around him.

“Mhmm,” a finger traces circles on his chest, her mind wandering off with intoxicated thoughts. Stricken with an idea, she hooks her leg around his hips, pulling herself up to straddle him. “I suppose I must return to entertaining.”

Gloved hands gently rub the sides of her thighs, slowly making their way up her body. He doesn’t say anything, instead preoccupied drinking every inch of her. The way pieces of her hair fall out of her braid, or the shimmering of jewels that adorn her neck and wrists. All of these little gifts, just smaller signs of _his_ influence. She was all his, for no one else to claim.

“Well, I _am_ in **dire** need of entertainment,” he dramatically lets his hands fall from her, one resting on his chest as if tending to a mortal wound. “The actors are gone, as are the bards and dancers – leaving me with the only entertainment of picking the brain of simpletons.”

She can’t help but smile at his theatrics. Such a smart and dangerous man, yet so seemingly uninterested in the daily quibbles of life. He would rather participate in a fantasy than in reality. If he wishes to live in a dream, then Parizad is more than happy to take him there.

She takes his hand from his chest, holding his wrist between her thin fingers. Her lips graze against his palm, teeth catching the edge of the glove before slowly pulling it off. She places a kiss on his fingers, her tongue coming out to pull his thumb into her mouth. The sight delights Solus, his gold eyes focusing solely on Parizad, as she sucks on his thumb, taunting him with a purr. He pushes his thumb farther down her throat, irises widening as he watches a red blush crawl onto her cheeks.

“ _Don’t stop,”_ he purrs, his free hand hooking tightly into her thigh, pulling her closer into his hips.

She already feels Solus’ half-hard erection against her thigh, her chest swelling with pride. She sucks harder on his thumb, hips grinding into him at a slow pace. His tightening grip encourages her own arousal, moaning from behind his thumb.

Abruptly, she pulls Solus’ thumb from her mouth, with an obscene _pop_ to torment him further. Her hands rest on his chest, fingers playing with the opening of his shirts. When she looks up at him, he merely looks amused; head tilted, golden eyes watching her play with the buttons of his uniform.

“Such fine craftsmanship,” her chest is burning with desire, but she enjoys playing with him for now. “I would feel guilty to remove them, they _do_ make you look oh so handsome.”

She leans forward, laying her body against his chest, her chin resting on folded hands. Pari thought he would have flipped her over to fuck her, putting these games aside. Any ordinary man would. But Solus is not just _any_ ordinary man. Instead, he gently massages the curve of her thigh, quietly, _patiently_ waiting.

“They are quite fine,” his other, still-gloved hand, pushes back several loose strands from her face, tucking it gentle behind her ear. His fingers linger for a ghost of a moment on her cheek, she’s _sure_ he’s going to kiss her then and there, but instead his hand drops to his side.

 _A stalemate_.

“Is the crafter here at the party? I would enjoy having a conversation with them,” she pushes herself further into him, hips locking against his. Nothing had changed from the moment she was sucking on his thumb to now; he’s _thoroughly_ enjoying her attempt at gaining the upper hand.

“I shall summon them here, then, and be on my way-“

“No-!”

Solus quirks his brow, golden eyes staring at her with delight. _Checkmate_ , she can hear him say. But there is still time to salvage this- she can still get the upper hand.

Intoxicated thoughts trip over one another in a feeble attempt to regain her footing. Her planning is brought to an abrupt end when she feels his hand between her thigh, fingers teasing her. Her breath hitches, posture straightening.

“A sudden change of mind?” his voice is calm, his fingers pressing between her folds to rub at her clit. A hand rushes to her mouth to cover the obscene sounds, but before it can reach, Solus catches her wrist in midair. “Now, now. Do not silence yourself. I am _so_ interested in hearing what you will say to the craftsman of these uniforms. Pray, _indulge_ me in every detail.”

“Well – hm- yes,” she swallows another moan as his fingers press harder into her, rubbing her clit with a strong, methodic pace. Her fingers curl into the fabric of his uniform, her head bowed. “It is quite- hm - such a lovely design- ah!”

“You seem quite passionate about this attire, I dare not take it off in fear of offending you.”

 _Gods_ , she just wants him to shut up and fuck her already, but she _refuses_ to let him win. Whatever game they are playing, Parizad wants to come out on top.

“Y-Yes, it would g-greatly offend m-mmmmm,” she sighs as two fingers curl into her, setting a rough and quick pace. She wrestles her hand from his grip to bite down on her fingers, determined to stay silent.

“It is very rude to speak without eye contact and with your mouth full,” his free hand tilts her chin so that she’s looking at him, his smile wide and taunting. “Where are your manners, my dear?”

Solus drinks in the sight of her, the proud woman who always had something to say, brought down to a stumbling mess at his touch. He slows his pace, his fingers withdrawing completely from her.

“Come now, be specific, what do you want? You know how to use your words, don’t you?”

She bites her bottom lip, eyes full of lust and determination. She is proud; usually if she wants something, she’ll earn it herself. Never once would she ask him for anything; _except this_ . And he _loves_ it.

“I want you,” she mumbles.

She leans forward, eyes closed, to brush her lips against his. She is _still_ determined to regain dominance, and frankly, that just makes him harder.

“I want you,” she repeats, her voice airy and breath hot against his skin. She plants a kiss on his chin, trailing down the crook of his neck. Another hand skillfully unhooks the buckle of his belt, pulling it free from his waist.

Solus watches as Parizad pulls down his trousers, fingers wrapping around his growing erection. She licks the back of his cock from base to tip, tongue slowly dragging over the tip. Her tongue wanders the diameter of him, and Solus cannot hold back a moan when he sees Parizad’s hollowed cheeks and swollen lips pressed against his head.

Her lips wrap around him, head bobbing in a slow rhythm before picking up the pace. Much to his dismay, Solus’ breath hitches when she begins to suck harder, nearly gagging on his cock. His fingers brush through her hair before taking a handful and giving a rough pull. His breathing becomes heavier, as much as he would allow it to. But Parizad knows him well, and when she sees the quickening of his chest rising and falling, she picks up the pace. She takes the whole of his cock into her mouth before removing herself completely from him.

She uses the back of her hand to wipe the saliva from her chin, smiling at Solus as she does. He is still completely erect, and she _would_ take advantage of this upper hand.

“Onto your back,” the clarity of his words takes her by surprise. Suddenly, his hands grab at her, pulling her off of him and onto the opposite side of the pillow mound.

Before any questions could be asked, Solus had already made his way between her thighs, spreading them apart. Her head falls back as his tongue licks the length of her cunt. She digs her heels into his back in a feeble attempt to pull him closer to her, his fingers dig into her thighs as his tongue continues to stroke and suck. She nearly cries his name when he focuses his attention on her clit, left to neglect by her own volition. 

“Gods- Solus- wait,” she breathes out the words in a hurried tone, before she falls off the edge she is teetering so close to.

He withdraws from her, tongue swiping the slick wetness from his lips. She can hardly speak, but he is well aware of what she is so desperately seeking. He grabs her by the waist, pulling her up to kiss him harshly on the mouth; to taste her own intoxicating flavor.

When they part, he continues to hold her against him, her hot skin seeping through the thick cloth of the monarchic uniform. 

“Onto your stomach, make haste.” 

He releases her, tending to the buttons that seem suffocating against his skin.

Normally she would have returned with a quip, but now all she does is humbly comply. Face pressed into a pillow, she bends herself over for him. Strong hands grab onto her ass, fingers digging deep to admire the ampleness of her rear. He runs a trail of kisses down her spine, fingers gently pulling down her smallclothes at a tauntingly slow pace.

She grips tightly onto the pillow, feeling his hips against hers. “P-please-“

Parizad does not need to finish her sentence for the Emperor to know what she desires. Quickly, in his own desperation, Solus lines himself up to her and rams into her. Her nails nearly tear apart the fabric of the pillow, the moan caught in her throat finally releases. The emperor shows his consort mercy by waiting for her to push back against him before continuing.

Neither of them have the patience to play any more games with one another. Solus sets an unrelenting pace, rolling his hips hard and fast into Pari. Her eyes roll back at the pure indulgence of being held down and fucked. He savors every second of her, pinned down beneath him, crying out his name in ecstasy. She acted so proudly, and it is truly a treat to see her succumb to him.

Drunk with passion, she bites down onto the pillow in an attempt to stifle any obscene sounds. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he pulls her off the pillow and up against him.

“I want to hear _every_ sound you make.”

She can no longer contain herself. Eyes water, vision turning a stark white, her body seizing beneath him. Solus leans into her, teeth buried deep into her shoulder as she comes undone, with him following suit quickly after.

The two do not pull apart immediately, still shaken and heaving from their passionate and brutal attack on one another. When he does part from her, Parizad lies sprawled on her stomach, leaving Solus to do as he wished. Within seconds he is cleaned up, fully dressed in his previous attire. She’ll never understand how he manages to do that so quickly, as if he snapped his fingers to summon them into existence.

A hand cups her face, placing a ghost of a kiss on the edge of her lips. “I do enjoy you beneath me,” he purrs. She leans into his hand, still hungover from the ecstasy.

Before he departs, she grabs his wrist, placing a kiss on his palm.

“Next time, I _will_ win.”


End file.
